


Flammable Angel Farts

by BabysNotaProp (SuzetteB)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Compliant, Crack, Crack Taken Seriously, Crack Treated Seriously, Dean is a Little Shit, Farting, Gen, Jack saves the day, Nephilim, Sam Winchester Can't Cook, Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge, Team Free Will 2.0, Tumblr Challenge, angel farts are flammable, angel grace, cas is allergic, celestial flatulence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzetteB/pseuds/BabysNotaProp
Summary: Cas discovers three allergens in the span of a few minutes and it's a bit too much.





	Flammable Angel Farts

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the #Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge on Tumblr, as my first attempt at crack. It's horrible, I know; please don't throw tomatoes at me. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: deans-jiggly-pudding

Despite Dean’s incessant whining, Cas had convinced him to plant a garden in the woods surrounding the bunker. _It’s for the bees_ , Cas insisted, having never quite gotten over the fascination of watching them buzz from flower to flower. He also wanted wooden beehives on the grounds, but he wasn’t going to push his luck with the handyman this weekend. The garden held a wide assortment of brightly colored flowers: bee balm, goldenrod, black-eyed susan, and lavender; all carefully chosen for their tendency to attract the happy, fuzzy, fat little yellow beans Cas had grown to love.

Having just made the mistake of walking in on Jack dusting off the artifacts in the War Room, Cas made his escape in a sneezing fit, clutching onto his breakfast. Sam had taken over breakfast duty while Dean finished Cas’ garden, and honestly, the less experienced cook of the Winchester household tried, he really did. But his whole grain breakfast burrito didn’t set well in Cas’ stomach, for reasons beyond his understanding, and as he closed the bunker door behind him, he noted to himself that none of Dean’s nitrate-rich breakfasts had betrayed him thusly.

Sniffing and rubbing his tummy, the angel made his way to the new garden just a short walk away. Dean was facing away from him, muttering under his breath and begrudgingly tossing peat moss around the new flowers.

“Weeds, he wants weeds. In his garden. Weeds,” Dean repeated through his teeth, motioning frantically toward the goldenrod.

*Sneeze* “Hello, Dean,” Cas greeted nasally.

Getting up from his work, Dean sighed and cocked his head to the side, his expression forbearing and drained. There was so much to be said, so much Dean currently did not have the energy to say. “Well, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to the small plot.

Cas’ eyes brightened at the sight before him. It was a small garden, no more than 8’x8’, framed by freshly sawed beams that smelled of cedar and filled with dark, moist soil and perfectly arranged rows of flowers. Hot pink, yellow, and purple blooms peppered the greenery and offered a gentle aroma that pleased the nose, and surely the bees, once they found them.

Desperate for a noseful of the lovely smells, Cas bent over the goldenrod and took a giant whiff. The aggressive pollen tickled on its way down his nose and got caught in his throat, causing him to stop the inhale abruptly and give a short cough.

“Y’alright, Cas?” Dean asked, amused that the wild vermin stalk of death the bee enthusiast had _insisted_ on having in his garden was biting him in the ass.

“Yes, I just --” Cas paused as he rubbed his nose, then stood straight as he felt his stomach twist once again. Something didn’t feel right. A great deal of pressure was building in his nether regions, and it became increasingly apparent that he needed to release this impending gas bubble. However, this was considered rude in most human circles, so he resorted to clenching his glutes and contorting his face into the most uncomfortable expression possible, hoping this somehow assisted the war effort.

“Uh, buddy?” Dean had stopped smiling by now. Was he… was he holding in a fart?

The bubble was getting bigger. He felt like a hot air balloon was being blown up inside of him, and it wasn’t going away. Why wasn’t it going away? The gas had come from elsewhere in his body; why couldn’t it just… _go back?_ At this point he wasn’t exactly sure what his face was doing, as he was entirely preoccupied with wishing away this expanding feeling. Oh no, he supposed the unusual breakfast had somewhat to do with it. Perhaps he was allergic to something Sam was cooking with. Allergies? Wasn’t that a human thing? Oh well, he had taken on human emotions over the past ten years -- adopting their allergies didn’t seem so far-fetched after all. He was definitely allergic to the dust from Jack kicking it up in the War Room. And now this, one of his beloved flowers, the bee-attracting goldenrod, had betrayed him. All these allergens were upon him at one time, and it was too much, and he just realized he had been holding his breath, his cheeks swelled with air like a chipmunk impersonation, and in one swift motion, he doubled over and relaxed his butt muscles.

The gas discharged with a force reminiscent of the first launch into space. Rumbling through the forest, the reverberations caused the trees to lose a few stray leaves and birds could be heard leaving their nests, sqwalking in fear as they fled.

“Dude!” Dean shouted, looking behind Cas, who lifted his blushing face. “Blue light just shot out of your ass!”

As if he expected to see a chemtrail, the flatulent angel glanced behind him and deduced from a quick wellness check that yes, a small amount of grace had been expended. He had farted so hard, grace pooped out. Before he could offer a comment in response to Dean’s observation, a trail of smoke seeped out of the thick woods, and Cas began panicking.

“Dean,” Cas clamored, “there’s a fire!”

Instead of reacting with terror, dread, or general concern, Dean stifled a laugh. Smirking, he looked from Cas to the steady stream of smoke, and back.

“This isn’t funny Dean, my celestial flatulence set the forest on fire!”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Dean held back from joking about the situation and readjusted his focus to Cas’ concern for the wildlife. “Okay man, you’re right, long live the trees. I’ll get a bucket of water.”

The two glanced at the woods once again, only to see fire lapping at the foliage within eyesight and rapidly spreading. Rotten branches, healthy green saplings, moss -- nothing was immune to the flames. Realizing they had neither time nor resources to handle this quick burning gas fire, they both began to think frantically.

“Dean, we have to do something or my garden will burn. And nothing is going to stop it from reaching the bunker, either. Go get Jack.”

A few very short minutes later, Dean returned with Sam and Jack in tow. Cas was helplessly watching the flames approach his beloved patch of beautiful flowers, his heart wilting when he realized the goldenrod would be the first to be consumed.

“So,” Sam began as they gathered a safe distance from the fire, “apparently, angel farts are flammable.”

“But this has never happened before, right?” Dean clarified as Cas stared steadfastly at his plants. “What are you, like a uh, a fart virgin?”

“No,” the offending angel retorted, “I’ve just never had that many allergens at once.”

“Jack, think there’s anything you can do about this fire?” Sam asked, turning to the young nephilim.

“It’s gotten bad pretty fast,” Jack observed the quick work the grace-induced fire had made of the woods, “but I can make it stop.” With a lift of his hand, his eyes flashed gold for a moment and waves of energy echoed through the forest, stopping the orange flames and shrinking them into a smaller and smaller rotating circle until the fire went completely out, leaving miles of trees and wildlife burnt in its wake. It was unnaturally quiet as the four observed the emptiness around them.

“One more thing, Jack,” Cas pleaded. “Could you restore the woods to life?”

He furrowed his brows for a moment, in deep thought on how he would go about this in his mind. “I think so,” he agreed, “I’ll do my best.”

Closing his eyes, Jack visualized the green, vibrant forest as it was previously, and slowly, trees and grass began to revive. Birds chirped nearby and squirrels rustled in the leaves. All signs of the destructive fire were gone.

“Thanks, Jack,” Sam offered a smile before turning his attention to Cas. “Okay, no more whole wheat burritos for you.”

“Or dust,” Jack quipped.

Dean uprooted the stalk of goldenrod with one pull and tossed it into the woods. “Or this crap. The bees will be cool with all the other stuff.”

Looking down meekly, Cas made peace with the loss. “Actually, Dean,” he said, looking up, “I was thinking about asking you to make hives as well.”


End file.
